13. Secret Tattoo
13
Secret Tattoo
Rose
I t’s been three days since the Polar Plunge, and I finally feel like my body temperature has regulated. But now I’m freezing again because I had to hike across a mile’s worth of parking lot asphalt to get to the players’ entrance of the River Foxes stadium from the visitors’ parking lot. I slide my badge in front of the employee entrance and let myself in.
I stop inside the doors and take a deep breath, psyching myself up to face Anton again. Something shifted between the two of us at the Polar Plunge. He was thoughtful and attentive, and the way he looked at me made me feel like I was the only person in the world. Clichéd? Yes. The truth? Also, yes.
But I can’t let it go to my head. I can’t let him go to my head.
After spending the beginning of the week observing practices and sitting at the back of team meetings but not having much direct contact with Anton, I got a text from him last night that said, Meet me in the weight room tomorrow at 3pm. Come ready to WORK.
I was hoping, since we seemed to be on better terms, that he would give up on the whole be a gamer shtick. But he seems intent on keeping me off balance. An invite to the weight room? Telling me to come ready to work? He’s going to put me through one of his workouts—I’m sure of it.
So much for things getting easier. We used to lift together all the time, and Anton is a beast. I can hold my own, but it won’t be pretty. It’ll be sweaty .
My phone pings as I’m walking the halls, heading in what I hope is the direction of the River Foxes’ team weight room.
Poppy
Honey bears, I’m homeeeeeeee!
Noli
AH!
Rosie, quick. Hide all the evidence of the rager you threw at The Downer! beer pint emoji
I snort.
Rose
Consider it done. Too bad I haven’t been able to patch that hole in the wall yet…
Poppy
Ha ha. Hilarious. I know you missed me. What’s new? What did I miss?
I tap out Nothing , but before I can press send, Noli has somehow written and sent back a novel about our trip to California, including details about my freelance writing gig and meeting Anton.
Poppy
Serious FOMO over here.
Noli
And something beyond work is going on with Rosie and Anton Bates…
I scoff, but the tips of my ears are burning.
Poppy
Wait a dang minute. Rose! I told you not to fall madly in love while I was gone.
Rose
Oh my gosh, Pops. I’m not in love with Anton Bates.
Noli
Lies.
Rose
You have no idea what you’re talking about.
Why am I sweating? I’m not even in the weight room yet.
Poppy
Girls’ night this weekend?
Noli
I have to work on Friday and Saturday frown face emoji
Rose
I have to go to the River Foxes game on Sunday.
For work!
Poppy
Can you get us tickets? We could all go!
Noli
Yeah! I’ve never been.
I consider my options here. If I say no, they’ll be even more obnoxious and convinced I’m holding out on them about some torrid affair I’m having with Anton.
I immediately clear my head of that visual.
If I say yes, then they’ll be around while I’m trying to do my undercover work, which is…not ideal. I don’t like mixing my two worlds, and I’ve always kept my sisters firmly in my normal-life world. But in this case, it might be the lesser of two evils to appease them.
Rose
I’ll talk to my contacts in the organization and see what I can do. No promises.
Poppy
Look at you, all professional.
Noli
I bet Anton would give you some contact in the organization, if you know what I mean. fire emoji winking face emoji
Rose
I’m ignoring you.
I’ll be in touch.
Noli
With Anton? Thought so. smirking face emoji
Rose
Shut up.
I blow out a breath, toggling over to a text message with the River Foxes’ marketing manager, Ned. If anyone can get me extra tickets for Sunday, he’s the guy. I make my request and slip my phone into my bag. I set off at a brisk pace down the hallway. I’ve given myself plenty of time, so even with that ridiculous sister text exchange thrown in, I’m almost a full forty-five minutes early.
By my calculations, the weight room should be straight ahead.
I pull open the door and walk directly into a group of oversized dudes. They’re all dressed in River Foxes gear—gray sweatpants and hoodies emblazoned with the purple-and-tangerine fox logo. They’re laughing and talking, but they fall silent at the sight of me. I hold up my hand in an awkward wave, trying to cover my feelings of immense intimidation with a smile .
“Hey there, I’m—”
“Rosie Kasper?” Delany Durgen steps forward. He blinks at me and then smiles so wide his teeth are actually visible from beneath his bushy, overgrown beard.
“Del?” I squeak just before he scoops me up in a teddy bear hug.
“Anton said he saw you, but I thought he was joshin’ me. What are you doing here, girlie?” he asks when he sets me down. “Cheerleading?”
“I hung up my cheerleading sneakers a while ago.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I haven’t exactly been sneaking around the facilities, but I also haven’t been drawing attention to myself. I’m not surprised Del and the guys haven’t noticed me. But I’m wondering why Anton hasn’t told his teammates about the feature article. Has he not had the chance? Is he embarrassed about it? About me, as the author of it? I look up at Del and sidestep the question, buying myself some time. “I heard you were traded.”
Del nods. “This is my first season here.”
“The southern boy is still getting used to the weather.” One of the other guys gives Del a playful shove. “Introduce us to your friend, Delany.”
“She’s more Bates’s friend than mine.” Del flicks his gaze over his shoulder and then back to me, question marks in his eyes. “Or she was.”
I imagine the cogs in his mind turning over, trying to figure out what’s going on. Del knew Anton and me when we were a couple in Mobile. I have no idea what Anton told him when we broke up. If he painted me in a bad light, which he had every right to do, then why is Del being so nice to me?
“He’s actually who I’m here to see.” I pin a smile on my face, deciding it’s best to get out ahead of it. No need for Del to start asking questions. He might come across as a big oaf, but he’s incredibly smart. I hold out my hand to the guy standing next to Del, who I know is TJ Wilson, the River Foxes’ running back. “Rose Kasper. I’m a journalist working on a feature piece on Anton.”
I shake the hand of a couple other River Foxes and then turn back to Del. “I should get going so I don’t keep his majesty waiting.”
I use the formal title intentionally. Because I’m a professional journalist here. But the guys all snort and chuckle. I arch my eyebrows.
“When you’ve seen a guy in nothing but his skivvies, royal titles sort of go out the window,” Poe, the team’s star tight end, explains.
“That, and I can torch him at Mario Kart. Dude plays as Toad.” TJ rolls his eyes. “Who does that? I’d never trust him to run a country. Yoshi forever.”
They all laugh.
“You know,” I say when they quiet, “since the piece I’m writing is supposed to be a full exposé, I’d love to get your take on Anton. Would you be willing to let me interview you? Maybe I could sit in on some less formal group hangouts.”
Del turns to his teammates. “If Anton’s cool with that, sure.”
“I make for very good press.” TJ winks at me.
“Good.” I laugh. “Is Anton here?”
The wall of oversized men separates down the middle, and I get my first real look at the weight room. Room is not exactly the right word for the state-of-the-art facility that stretches before me. There are several rows of squat racks making neat lines through the room with large weight discs of every size stacked alongside each. Opposite the squat racks are the bench presses. There’s a rack of dumbbell free weights as well as several rowing machines. Speakers are embedded in the walls above the giant, twelve-foot mirrors that ring the room, but there’s no music playing right now. It’s completely silent, except for the whir of one machine. Anton is running on a nearby treadmill .
He hasn’t looked our way, which leads me to believe he’s got headphones in. I relish the chance to observe him. His shirt is off and flung over the arm rail of the next machine over. He’s not sprinting, but he’s keeping a good pace. His strong legs churn as his arms pump in time. His back glistens with perspiration, which seems to highlight his muscles. I’m staring. I can’t help it.
This is not the first time I’m seeing Anton shirtless. We used to swim together all the time in the Gulf. I could probably still sketch a pretty accurate picture of the contours and grooves of his upper body. What I can’t tear my gaze away from is something new.
There, in the upper corner of his back, directly over his left shoulder blade, is a tattoo. I’ve never seen it before, and my heart begins to beat in time with Anton’s stride. It’s pounding so strongly I’m afraid it’s going to dash right out of my chest.
Because his tattoo is in the shape of a rose. There’s no mistaking it for any other kind of flower. Immediately I’m trying to come up with some reason for him to have my namesake flower tattooed onto his body. Because, whoa baby, it cannot be for me.
Maybe he’s developed a strong love for Axl Rose and the Guns N’ Roses’ classic hit “Sweet Child O’ Mine.” Such a banger, right?
Or maybe he discovered a late-in-life passion for Beauty and the Beast and wanted a reminder of the enchanted rose.
Maybe he’s into horse racing. Don’t they drape the winning filly with a cascade of roses after, like, the Kentucky Derby or something?
TJ makes a finger-whistle that pierces the silence of the weight room and cuts through whatever noise-canceling earbuds Anton has in. He punches a couple buttons on the treadmill and glances over his shoulder as he slows to a jog. His eyes immediately land on me.
I’m standing in the center of a half circle of his teammates, and I don’t know what to do with myself. Not after seeing the tattoo. I will not, under any circumstances, draw attention to it. I cannot think about it. I refuse to consider that it could be about me. If I do…well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be pretty. It could possibly entail me throwing myself at Anton’s feet and begging him to love me and take me back. That cannot happen. He’s a prince. I’m a nobody. More than that, I’m lying to him, and Anton deserves better than me.
I’ve broken into a total body sweat. My chest is tight. Is this what it feels like to have a heart attack?
“You’re early.” Anton grabs his shirt and yanks it over his head, striding toward us. He eyes his teammates. “Are y’all behaving?”
“We told her she could come to our next guys’ night.” Del grins at Anton. “For the article.”
I nod. This is good. If the focus stays on the article, maybe Anton won’t realize I’ve seen his tattoo.